


High Hopes High Domestic...ness...Stuff

by Goldstone_Wolf



Series: High Hopes Low (Blank) [29]
Category: Dungeons & Dragons (Roleplaying Game), High Hopes Low Rolls (Web Series)
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Food mentions, Zenya is Chonky, and it will hurt, be prepared there's some angst coming your way later, dnd-typical violence, hurt/comfort but without the hurt, i guess?, like really, lots of fluff, minor injury, minor injury references, monster references, sort of cute I guess, y'all I am starting to run out of fic names it's a disaster
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-23
Updated: 2020-06-23
Packaged: 2021-03-04 01:35:40
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,183
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24885454
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Goldstone_Wolf/pseuds/Goldstone_Wolf
Summary: Some actual fluff for y’all to read that doesn’t turn into angst. And if it does…find me on tumblr or the discord (same name both places) and just…scream at me or something.In actual synopsis: “Gwing and Rook spend some time hanging out at the inn on a day when High Hopes doesn’t have to do something or other.”
Relationships: Rook Lunera/Gwing Veloce
Series: High Hopes Low (Blank) [29]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1692196
Comments: 3
Kudos: 9





	High Hopes High Domestic...ness...Stuff

**Author's Note:**

> I don’t know I was just wanting to write some Gwook fluff because of the other thing that’s going on today that you’ll find. Found the prompts on tumblr but they’ve all kind of vanished so sorry.   
> TWs in tags but the hurt in the hurt/comfort bit is all past. No, the two are not connected in any way, shape, or form other than being part of the same series (big surprise for my past self, but not every “High Hopes Low Blank” fic has to be connected)

“Ow.”

“If you quit moving then maybe it wouldn’t hurt so bad.”

“I’m _breathing_ , Gwing.”

For a brief moment, Gwing nearly suggested that Rook stop breathing, but she wasn’t that mean. They’d had a few hard fights lately, and staggering into the inn had been even more difficult than usual. This town hadn’t had any monsters or bandits or the like near it, so it was nice to be able to relax…at least for a little while. They would recuperate, and then they’d get back on the road towards wherever they needed to go next.

Earlier, Hashaan had stopped by and dropped some food off. Once Gwing had finally managed to haul herself out of bed and over to the door to grab the bag, she’d returned to the bed to find Rook curled up on his less-injured side with his eyes closed. They’d been smacked around by some sort of rock monster (she hadn’t seen it well because it was fast and angry and _very painful_ to deal with), and he’d ended up with some broken ribs. “I brought food.” Nudging him as gently as she could, she added, “Hey. You alive in there?”

Opening his eyes, he frowned at her and reached up, wincing as he pulled his hat down over his eyes. “Go away and let me sleep.”

Slumping down on the bed next to him, she rolled her shoulder and winced (she kept forgetting, somehow, that she’d dislocated it pretty badly). “I’m pretty sure there’s chocolate in here. I don’t know where she found it but she did.”

Rook straightened up a little, hat tilting back, and Gwing winced sympathetically as his face immediately burst into pain. He fell back on the bed with a groan, curling around his injured ribs again. “Ow. Can I have some?”

“Yeah, sure.” She passed him some of the tiny wrapped chocolates, which were shaped like little hearts, and took a tentative bite as he unwrapped his. After a moment, she added, “Oh, be careful, I think there’s—” He rolled onto his back, covering his mouth with one hand and obviously trying not to cry out in pain. “—hot sauce.” Wincing, she reached over and ran a hand through his hair until he finally opened his eyes again. (He’d cried just a little bit, but she wasn’t going to point that out). “You okay?”

“No.” The word was muffled, and she shook her head. “You don’t love me anymore.”

Laughing, she rolled her eyes and said (SARCASTICALLY, for anyone who cared), “You’re right, I don’t love you. How could I possibly love someone who cannot possibly eat all the hot sauce filled chocolates that I so enjoy?” She popped another one in her mouth without really paying attention. After a moment, she realised that she could hear sniffling behind her. When she turned around, she saw Rook was actually crying (again).

“But I thought you did.” _Oh crud, he has a concussion, right._ Hashaan had warned her about that.

“No, Rook, wait—” He started crying even more and she grimaced. “Oh, gosh, Rook, I’m sorry, I was being sarcastic.”

He kept crying, choking out, “That’s okay—I was joking—” between sobs even though he was obviously _not_ joking. Zenya appeared, settled on Rook’s shoulder, and shot Gwing what had to be the least passive-aggressive, “how-did-you-break-him” look that a pseudodragon could send.

_This is going to be a long day,_ she thought as she settled down on her side and offered the dragon a little chocolate.

+++

Later in the day, Hashaan came by and checked in on them.

“I hope I didn’t interrupt you.” She said, and Gwing and Rook both looked up from where they were. At the moment, Gwing had stolen one of Rook’s books (thankfully _not_ one that had his spells and the like in there; it was just a simple novel that they’d picked up in a bazaar someplace that he had read a thousand times) and was currently reading it to him. “I just vanted to check how you are doing.”

“We’re good, thanks. Oh, and thanks for the food.” Gwing nodded at the miniature basket. Hashaan shrugged, then ducked back outside. Glancing down at Rook, she noticed that he had started to doze off. Zenya let out a churring sound and jumped onto Gwing’s stomach. Reaching up, she rubbed a hand over the dragon’s head and down her back, smiling. “How are you doing? Not too badly, I hope?”

_Churr._

Reaching over, Gwing grabbed another piece of chocolate and handed it over. “You know, I feel like we shouldn’t give you so many treats. You might get to chubby to fly.” Zenya shot her a look, and she rolled her eyes. “Alright, I’ll talk with Rook about it later. Maybe you should just fly more.”

“Leave my dragon alone.” Rook mumbled (or presumably mumbled, considering he was half-asleep). Smiling, Gwing reached over and ruffled his hair just a little and he let out a sound. “Leave me alone!”

+++

About an hour before sunset, she wandered downstairs to grab some food.

In retrospect, she probably shouldn’t have. Had Rook woken up, the idiot probably would have stumbled downstairs after her and ended up breaking more than just his already-fractured ankle (which was why he was supposed to be confined to bed in the first place). She just had to thank whoever was watching over them that he hadn’t and she had managed to make it upstairs with two bowls of food without tripping over anything.

He was curled on the bed, one arm splayed out like he was looking for someone and concern vaguely painted on his face. (He was also snoring, but she decided she was going to ignore that fact.) “Rook. You gotta wake up—I brought dinner.” She kept nudging him gently until he snorted and shot awake, almost making her spill. Groaning, he fell back in the bed again. “Yeah, that was a bit of a dumb move. Hungry?”

Blinking a few times, he took a breath, winced, and then nodded. She handed him a bowl and he took it, mumbling, “Thanks.”

“Did I wake you from something?”

“Not really. My ribs still hurt.”

“Well, you _did_ get thrown around a lot. We all did.” Pulling her legs up on the bed, she watched him for a few seconds until she was sure he could move his arms enough to actually eat comfortably. “You know, Zenya’s getting a little…”

“Chonky?”

She glanced at him, and he shrugged. “Where did you hear that?”

“Some random village kids as Hashaan was carrying me into town.” Nodding at the little pseudodragon, who was currently chewing on some of the chocolate wrappings, he shrugged and added, “I don’t think I’m wrong.”

“Probably not.” They both went silent until they finished their food, and Gwing yawned before lying back on the bed. “It’s weird. Normally we’re fighting something right now.”

Laughing, Rook set his bowl down on the bedside table and picked Zenya up. “Well, I think I prefer _not_ fighting something rather than fighting something.”

“Why? Scared?”

“Terrified.”

**Author's Note:**

> Another awkward ending (at least to me). I probably would have added them kissing at least once, just so that it was definitely Gwing/Rook and not platonic (even though I guess it doesn’t seem like that anyway), but I’m really awkward at writing that kind of thing and it still takes me a good five minutes to even try.   
> Anyhow, there should be some angst coming up later tonight, so sorry in advance. Thank you for reading, hope y’all know that you’re loved and appreciated and awesome and amazing, and I hope to see you in the next fic! Hope you have a nice !  
> Now, into the fray once more!


End file.
